


Binding

by INMH



Series: hc_bingo Fanfiction Fills 2016 [6]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Family, Fluff, Food, Friendship, Gen, Post-Star Trek Beyond, References to Past Character Deaths, Spoilers, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8102086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: Every three days, when the numbers on the clock read 5:00pm, there is a knock on Jaylah’s door. SPOILERS for Beyond, post-movie, companion to ‘Resetting the Count’.





	

Jaylah was young when she and her family were captured by Krall. From her details, Montgomery Scotty thinks she may have been anywhere between ten and twelve. There were many people in Krall’s death-place, enough to sustain him for a long while, and she and her two brothers, one smaller and one bigger than she, must not have been very appetizing. They stayed there for a year or so.

Somehow, her father got wind of a comment from Kalara, or maybe even Krall, who’d mentioned that the “white-skinned children look ready”. Something like that. By then they had taken her mother and older brother, both without warning. Her father devised their escape, and Jaylah alone made it out of the death-place.

Jaylah had few ways to measure time, and her first years on a strange planet had disturbed her sense of time. She thinks maybe she is twenty-four now, and that she spent at least ten years on her own in the wilds of Altamid.

The children of Jaylah’s people, she understands now, mentally develop faster than human children; this, Montgomery Scott says, is likely why she was able to survive on her own so young, and repair her house as well as she did. Human children, as a rule, did not possess the capacity for technical acumen that her people’s children did.

Her people. A race whose name she has forgotten, confined to a small corner of a planet whose name she has also forgotten, whose language she can only remember a few scattered words and phrases of, having pushed much out in order to learn the language spoken by her house and the scattered species that inhabited Altamid.

“Do you want us to take you home?” James T. had asked.

“What home?”

“Your planet. Did you want us to take you back to your planet? You might have relatives there, family waiting for you to come back.”

But Jaylah had shaken her head. Her memories of… “home” are limited to that of her immediate family, her parents and brothers and a small sister who died young of an illness that turned her lips orange before choking her to death with fluid. Children’s primary interactions were with siblings, whilst adults interacted with the community; there was a reason for that, perhaps a cultural norm, perhaps there was some reason children of her kind were kept separate (something about her sister’s illness teases her memory, but details elude her).

If she has family beyond her parents and siblings, Jaylah neither knows nor remembers them, unable to separate them from nameless adults scattered throughout her memory. It hurts to think that there may be people wondering where they went, never to know why they didn’t come back (indeed, Jaylah doesn’t recall their precise reasoning for leaving their planet, only that it was some business of her mother’s), but she has no names, none whatsoever, no means of locating them.

She left Altamid with nothing but her staff, her clothes, various trinkets and supplies she had acquired over her time in her house, and her name. And even her house has been returned to Starfleet as a historical artifact.

She has no family, no friends to miss from Altamid- all she has are a few scant members of Montgomery Scotty and James T’s crew.

Montgomery Scotty in particular.

[---]

Every three days, when the numbers on the clock read 5:00pm, there is a knock on the door of her dormitory. She had a roommate, but eventually she left to move in with her mate- boy-friend, is the English word for it. Jaylah is alone, but she is used to that.

And really, it isn’t the same sort of loneliness that there was on Altamid, where anyone she ran across was usually an enemy. There are people all around and everywhere, and none of them mean her any harm. But that does not stop Montgomery Scotty from making these trips.

The first time this occurs, a day after moving in and an hour after her roommate has left for the evening, and Jaylah opens the door to find Montgomery Scotty standing there with some sort of container in his hand. Food, from the faint smell she’s getting from it.

“Made something for you,” Is his greeting, hefting the container a little higher. “It’s a little cold now, though. Have you got a microwave? It’s a square thing that-”

“I know what is a microwave,” Jaylah grumbles. “My house had one.” Not that she had ever used it. It was broken, and had not been a priority to fix. Materials were scarce and there were other ways to cook food that required cooking. But she did read the manual for it after finding it in the recesses of the ship, and is reasonably certain she can operate one if necessary.

As it happened, the model of microwave she knew of was over a hundred years old, and she did not in fact know how to operate the one in her own kitchen. After about five minutes of patiently watching her attempt to do it on her own, Montgomery Scotty offers to do it for her. Frustrated and unwilling to be made a fool of by a piece of technology, Jaylah wordlessly steps aside and let him.

“So, how’s your classes been?”

“Good enough.”

“I expect engineering’s been a breeze?”

“Windy?” Jaylah knows the language, but oftentimes euphemisms escape her. Especially Montgomery Scotty’s.

“Easy.”

“Ah. Yes, they are easy. Though I do not understand all of this endless lecturing on safety. Only a fool would put a blowtorch in their mouth for safe-keeping.”

Montgomery Scotty lets out a mad cackle. “Used that example, did he? Well, it all stems from an incident that happened when I was a little greenie recruit in the Academy myself- pull up a seat, I’ll tell you.”

And so they eat the food- “haddock” and “mashed potatoes”, neither of which Jaylah has eaten before- as Montgomery Scotty tells her about that “bit of foolishness with the blowtorch” and other tales from his time at Starfleet Academy.

It is hours later that he leaves, after helping her clean up and wishing her good luck with her classes.

[---]

The fifth time it happens, Jaylah has reason to be grateful for Montgomery Scotty’s regular presence.  
I  
t happens earlier in the day, during one of her classes. The names of the classes all blur together: ‘advanced’ this, ‘introductory’ that, Jaylah remembers the purpose of the classes and that’s all she needs to. This one covers the legalities of operating under Starfleet.

It’s a simple disagreement. Really.

Jaylah does not understand why the Treaty of Organia requires Starfleet captains to allow Klingons to use their facilities for shore-leave. To allow a hostile force access to Starfleet facilities was counter-productive.

Asha is a human girl, approximately as old as Jaylah, give or take. Jaylah does not know her well, beyond that she never smiles and has been known to argue with the instructor to and extent that- so the whispers say- she’s been in “official” trouble for it more than once. It is she who tells Jaylah, “The Klingons are not hostile.”

Jaylah squints at her. “They are not allies. They regard the Federation with hostility.”

“Yes,” Asha says, and the edge to her voice is obvious. “But they are not hostiles. We are at peace with them.”

“How can we be at peace with them if they regard us with hostility?”

To her left, a boy named Kier leans over and whispers, “I think when she says ‘hostiles’, she means that they’re not combatants. We’re not at war with them, so officially, they’re not our enemies, but-”

“Is this really so hard for you to grasp?” Asha snaps in a way that, if Jaylah were not so intent on displaying ‘tact’ (as requested by Montgomery Scotty), she would have gotten a book thrown at her head in response.

“Miss Krieger-” The Instructor has been content to stay silent all this time- he “welcomes debate”- but Asha’s tone seems to have had the same effect on him that it’s had on Jaylah. “-your tone is unnecessary. Watch it.”

“It’s not my fault she doesn’t understand.”

“It is your fault for not using your words clearly,” Jaylah remarks, trying to temper the burn in her blood by giving it an outlet through words instead of violence. “You use your words interchangeably. How am I supposed to know?”

“How about by having a basic fucking grasp on the English language?” Asha retorts heatedly.

Those words make Jaylah’s chest burn with… Not hurt, it’s not that personal… Humiliation. Yes, that’s the word she’s looking for. Jaylah is well aware that her house provided her only with the basics of English, which was difficult enough to learn given how different her original language was. She is well aware that her ability to speak it is quite good; but her understanding tends to be flawed, especially with the tiny, nuanced technicalities of the language.

“Stop!” The instructor commands. “Done. The conversation is over. Asha, you’ll see me after class. Jaylah, allow me to clarify: We are not, as Mr. Morgan said, involved in an active conflict with the Klingons. Therefore…”

The instructor explains, and that should be the end of it.

But Asha brushes by Jaylah on her way out of the classroom later, and under her breath she snarls, just loud enough for Jaylah to hear:

“Fucking albino alien freak.”

Jaylah knows what ‘fucking’ means (sex, or in this context, a rude way of emphasizing something the person is saying), and ‘alien’ is obvious enough, but the words ‘albino’ and ‘freak’ escape her. Those were not words taught to her by her house. Which makes sense, as Jaylah strongly suspects they are derogatory.

She thinks about asking Kier, who was pleasant enough earlier; but no, she doesn’t know him well enough, and she’s found that people react to some words very, very strangely and does not want to risk offending him.

The opportunity presents itself that night, when Jaylah hears the knock on the door and remembers that Montgomery Scotty is due. He greets her the same way he always greets her on these occasions: “Made something for you!”

Jaylah does not recognize the smell of the food. She suspects that at least part of Montgomery Scotty’s purpose with these visits has been to accustom her to the sorts of foods eaten in the Federation. She finds that after years of subsisting on meat she’s hunted for herself and whatever scarce, non-toxic greenery she could find in the forests of Altamid, there’s little she’s found in Yorktown that she’s disliked.

“Sit,” Jaylah says after accepting the container from him. “I have questions.”

“Do you, now?” Montgomery Scotty pulls up a seat at the small table and crosses his legs. “Well, shoot, what’s on your mind?”

Jaylah opens her mouth to inquire what he means by “shoot”, which she associates with weaponry… But then stops, Asha’s comment about her ‘grasp on the English language’ pushing forward in her mind. Perhaps she should not ask so many questions. Perhaps they make her look foolish. Maybe she shouldn’t ask about the other words, either, even though she knows Montgomery Scotty wouldn’t be rude to her about them. He hasn’t been thus far.

But he takes her silence as reluctance, and as always, he prods. “Go on, lassie. What’s wrong?”

Montgomery Scotty has a tone, a very specific tone that says ‘I will dig my teeth into this until it bleeds’ (a translation, in spirit, of a loosely-remembered turn of phrase in her original language), and Jaylah knows she has to say it. “I had words with a classmate today.”

He smirks. “Ripped her a new one, did you?”

Jaylah tries to piece that together. ‘Ripped her a new one’? A new what? It sounds violent, this euphemism. She could simply nod along and pretend she understands, instead of asking what it means, but she does not like agreeing or disagreeing with things when she is not knowing exactly what they are.

She sighs. “I do not know what is this thing I have supposedly ripped.”

“It’s the politer version of the phrase ‘ripping someone a new asshole’.” Montgomery Scotty says primly, hands folded on his lap. “It means you vehemently gave them a piece of your mind- you know that one, right?”

“Yes, that one I know.” Jaylah says, but does not look at him as she puts the food on the plates. Today does not require the microwave. “I do not know if I have ripped her a new asshole. I feel she may have done that to me.”

Montgomery Scotty’s smirk fades. “Who is this? What’s she done, then?”

“I have told you,” Jaylah repeats, handing him his plate. “A classmate. We had words in class.”

“Which class?”

“The one with all the laws.”

“Introduction to Legal Properties of Starfleet Operations, Semester A,” Montgomery Scotty rattles off easily. “Right. They need to learn to condense. So what words did you have with one another?”

Jaylah stabs at the food on the plate, avoiding eye-contact. She knows this makes her look suspicious, but she is uncomfortable, and she is not accustomed to being uncomfortable interacting with others. On Altamid, the savagery of survival removed such hindrances- a weak demeanor meant manipulation from others at best, and death at worst.

“Jaylah.” Montgomery Scotty does not often call her by her name unless he is calling out to her in a place populated by others. He calls her ‘lass’ or ‘lassie’, which he says are words that, to his people in his country, means ‘young woman’ or ‘girl’, though it may also apply to a woman younger than the speaker. When he calls her Jaylah, he is usually being serious. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

Jaylah thinks. And then she speaks. “She said that I was a ‘fucking alien albino freak’. I do not understand those words.”

Montgomery Scotty’s slouched, relaxed posture suddenly becomes tense, and he sits up straight with a sharpness that nearly makes Jaylah start. “She said what, now?”

“She said I was a ‘fucking alien albino freak’,” she repeats, “I know what is ‘fucking’ and ‘alien’, but-”

“What those last two words mean is that your classmate is a little twat who needs to learn some manners,” Montgomery Scotty growls. Honest, serious anger is not something that he engages in often, and it is as unsettling to see it on his face as it was to see him in pain when his leg broke. “And I’ve half a mind to teach her myself. Bloody Academy student of bloody Starfleet should know better than to be speaking rudely about ‘aliens’.”

“It makes no difference,” Jaylah says.

“It makes all the difference. She shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, and she ought not to be joining a diverse organization like Starfleet if she can’t resist making nasty remarks about people’s appearances.”

Jaylah is not as offended as Montgomery Scotty. Why should she be? Oftentimes Jaylah is baffled by the strange appearances of the people she sees in Yorktown, or at the Academy. In any case, this is not the first time she’s been called names, between the prisoners in the death-place who were bitter with stress and fear, and the scattered peoples who wandered the wilderness trying to survive. She doesn’t care what they say about the markings on her face, or the way her skin bruises light, light blue against her white skin when she’s injured.

But Montgomery Scotty does, much in the way that Jaylah’s father had cared when a prisoner with spikes all over his face called her something vulgar. She does not know what it meant; only that it earned that spike-faced prisoner a fist to his face.

That may be why she feels compelled to share further. “I do not care about her words about my face.” Jaylah paused. “She said I do not have ‘a basic fucking grasp on the English language’.”

Montgomery Scotty looks even more offended. “You speak English just fine.”

Jaylah shakes her head, waves her hand. “No, it is not how I speak. It is how I understand. This girl, she kept…” She struggles to explain. “…A word may have two meanings, depending on the subject, yes? This I know. But she used them interchangeably, and I did not understand her. Many times I do not, when you or anyone else does this either.”

He heaved a sigh. “If she’s using words with two distinctly different meanings interchangeably, then that’s her bad. She needs to clarify what she means when she speaks and not jump down someone’s throats when they quite understandably don’t know what she means.”

“Then it is not my understanding?”

Montgomery Scotty shrugs a little. “Depends on the situation. Pavel Chekov, English is his second language too- he’s got it down for the most part, but every now and then somebody will say something, use some obscure metaphor, and he’s got no idea what they’re talking about. Lots of little things, like words having two meanings or metaphors- they’ve got cultural connotations behind them, things you’d only know if you’d grown up speaking it. Sometimes you may not understand and need help, and sometimes it may just be some little bastard slaughtering the English language and blaming other people when they need clarification.”

Again, with the violent phrasing. Montgomery Scotty does not like Asha, and Jaylah has not even told him her name yet.

“In any case, put it out of your mind. If this girl’s willing to resort to petty insults about your appearance then her opinion’s not worth much anyway.” He gestured to her plate. “So, what do you think?”

“It is good. What is it?”

Montgomery Scotty’s smirk is mischievous. “Haggis. Finish it and I’ll tell you what it’s made from. ‘course, you’re not from Earth, so you might not react the way most do…”

[---]

The eighth time, Jaylah is not expecting it.

The day before, a pipe falls on Montgomery Scotty’s leg and breaks it in four places. He spends the night in Starfleet’s medical center while it heals. Kind of. Because the next day he is back in the hangar on a pair of crutches, hobbling around and awkwardly trying to fit in and around pieces of machinery in order to inspect or fix them.

There are several people who confront him and suggest that maybe, just maybe, he should go back to the medical center. Jaylah is not one of them; this is a fight she knows she won’t win, and she finds it funny that none of the other technicians seem to realize that.

At one point, Leonard McCoy makes a trip down to the hangar. He is… Twitchy. Jaylah thought it was odd at first, the way Leonard McCoy would twitch sometimes, but now she understands that this is what he looks like when he’s irate. Which is often. Or when, as Montgomery Scotty puts it, he is “ready to put the hurt on you”.

(“He is a doctor, why would he be putting a ‘hurt’ on anyone?”

“You’d be surprised, lassie.”)

Leonard McCoy happens to come in just as Montgomery Scotty is sliding out from under an engine, which aggravates his leg and makes him wince. “Got-dang it Scotty, didn’t I tell you not to do this bullshit? Didn’t I tell you to stay in bed if you couldn’t stay at the center?”

Montgomery Scotty is defiant. “The ship needs repairs, McCoy, as well as updates to her existing functions. I’ve got a job to do, and I aim to do it.”

Leonard McCoy slaps a hand over his eyes. “Ah, right, because there is literally nobody else here who could possibly work on those things while you rest for a damn day or two! My mistake!”

“Indeed it is,” Montgomery Scotty says neatly, ignoring the look on Leonard McCoy’s face (which definitely seems to imply that someone is about to get hurt). “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I have a date with a lovely lady named the warp core.”

“You’re insane. Indisputably, undeniably, certifiably insane. Don’t come crying to me when you re-break something, you lunatic.”

“Noted!”

Despite this amusing exchange, Jaylah assumes that she will be eating alone that night. After all, Montgomery Scotty is bent on catching up with what he missed out on doing yesterday.

But at 5:00 there is a knock at the door, and when she opens it, Montgomery Scotty is standing there, precariously gripping a container of food whilst leaning on the crutches. Jaylah quickly takes the dish from him. “What are you doing here?”

“Do I or do I not come here every three days with food?” He asks as he follows her inside. “Have I not done this consistently over the last month?”

Jaylah gives him a pointed look. “I am thinking that you would be in the hangar working on the Enterprise. Or resting your leg.”

“Bah, McCoy doesn’t know everything, you know. And besides, I work on the Enterprise every day, I can take a break to eat and talk with you.”

And there’s something about that that touches Jaylah, hurts her and makes her feel good at the same time.

But she chooses not to meditate on it. They perform their routine as usual: They sit, they talk, they eat, and Jaylah takes it in stride and does not think about what her life is becoming on this base.

[---]

The 20th time, there’s a break in routine.

The day is normal enough. Her classes come and go without incident.

Jaylah has tried, is trying, to interact more with classmates. It is her own desire, but once Montgomery Scotty found out, he pushed her to try even more. “No harm in having some friends, lassie. I’ve done well with mine thus far.”

So Jaylah tries. She focuses on the ones like Kier, who have no reservations in talking to her during class, or Trisha, who offers Jaylah her notes when her alarm malfunctions and she misses class.

“I’ll round up all of the relevant ones and hand them off to you in the rec room,” She offers, and Jaylah agrees, not for the first time feeling that strange feeling in her chest; it’s the one that comes whenever someone goes out of their way to do something kind for her. Too many years on Altamid and its hostile climate have taken a toll on her willingness to trust in the kindness of strangers.

Jaylah waits in the rec room at the decided time, leaning against the wall and observing the other cadets at the pool table, on the couches, on their PADDs, reading their books, doing their homework. It has been something of a struggle to find things other than engineering that she actually enjoys doing; Mr. Sulu has recommended that she check out the- what was it- fencing club. She was confused about the wording at first, thinking that maybe it was a club dedicated to building fences. She told that to James T. and he started laughing so hard that he coughed.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I’m just picturing a club dedicated to building fences and somehow it’s really funny,” He had choked. “No, it’s, uh, it’s sword-fighting. Weaponry. That kind of thing.”

Jaylah is scanning the room now, wondering now who among the people here she might be able to ask about ‘fencing’; because if there’s one thing aside from engineering that Jaylah is good at, it is fighting, and she could always-

Suddenly, she hears a faint screaming.

And every single bit of her body goes cold.

For a few seconds she is too shocked to think, to feel, and it’s only once the feeling has subsided somewhat that she can pinpoint the scream as coming from a television on the wall. The cadets below are watching it with interest, with concern, and Jaylah does not quite recall leaving her place on the wall to join them, but then she’s there, right beside two whispering cadets.

On the screen is news footage from another planet, one closer to Montgomery Scotty and most of the Enterprise crew’s home-world, Earth. There are fires, violent crackling sounds and light flashing against a dark, cloudy sky. There is some sort of destruction taken place on this planet, some sort of storm that’s destroying buildings and uprooting trees.

But it is the screaming that makes Jaylah feel sick.

There is a woman on the screen, further back in the scenery. She’s the one screaming, howling as she kneels over a small body on the ground. This woman is a stranger, Jaylah has never seen her or met her or heard of her before, and yet her screaming makes Jaylah feel as though her heart is about to beat out her chest, as though she’s going to vomit, as though she’s going to scream herself because, because…

It sounds like her mother.

Jaylah understands that her mother is long dead, sucked dry by Krall in his desire for immortality and vengeance. But this scream, this scream that has been screamed by a woman on a planet far, far away from here, it sounds exactly as it sounded when her mother was taken, and that awakens something so fiercely painful in her chest, something that burns her eyes and traps the air in her lungs, that she just can’t stand it.

So she runs.

This feeling that she has, she can’t focus. She needs to calm down. She needs a place that is safe.

People blur around her. When did she get outside?

Wait. Some place safe.

She knows one.

It’s like trying to navigate through a room where the lights keep coming on and off. One minute she sees everything before her, and suddenly it’s all a blur. The screaming, the stranger’s and her mother’s, is the soundtrack to her confused trek.

She bumps into a few people, and at one point she thinks maybe she hears someone call her name. But all she can bring herself to focus on is her destination.

The hangar where her house is being kept and restored is dark, but Jaylah does not need to think too hard to know how to get into the ship. As a matter of convenience and security she memorized all possible entrances to the ship a long time ago.

The Franklin may be Jaylah’s only positive memory of Altamid, her place of safety away from the harsh environment and harsher people. Repairing it gave her a much-needed distraction from her loneliness and despair. And more importantly, it provided her hope that she would one day be gone from that forsaken place.

Jaylah curls up on the captain’s chair, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She wants to be calm, but the memories push at her, the foreboding she felt when Manas stopped before her family and locked eyes with her mother; the panic when he motioned to the drones to take her; the sound of her younger brother crying as they dragged her away; her father swearing and screaming and fighting to bring her back.

Five minutes later, the screaming started.

Within two minutes, it had stopped.

Krall killed her mother and had her father beaten for the scene he made. Jaylah’s grief had been profound, and it was only because she had clutched her little brother to her chest and held him tightly that she’d managed to avoid screaming out her grief as she listened to her mother take her last breaths.

Jaylah and her brothers spent the night mourning their mother and pleading with their unconscious father not to die as well. She was so consumed with grief for her mother’s passing, it did not occur to her that within the week her brothers and father would be gone too.

The grief of their loss might have killed her. It might have made her lie down in the dirt and die, unable to eat or sleep or drink, only weep for the family she no longer had. And Jaylah did cry in those early days, great, heaving sobs that on two occasions led scavengers to find her. One party she barely escaped; the other debated on killing her, but then decided it wouldn’t be worth it.

Then she found the Franklin, crawling into its recesses and finding that there was machinery to repair, and a computer that could teach her the language of the people whose ship it had once been. Jaylah knew what a starship was, knew that with the proper repairs, it could take her off of Altamid. It gave her a purpose, a Thing to focus on, a hope to save her from the pain of her loss.

The Franklin was no longer her house, but it is still very much her home.

“Lassie?”

Jaylah starts, nearly slipping out of the chair. How long has she been sitting here? It’s difficult to tell. The beam of a flashlight bounces off the ceiling, and then Montgomery Scotty is standing beside her, looking concerned.

In his hand is a container. Naturally, there is food in it.

Jaylah does not know what possesses her to do so, but she almost laughs; there is nothing even remotely funny about this situation, but the urge is surprisingly strong.

Montgomery Scotty sets the food down on the helmsman’s console. “What’s going on then, lass? What are you doing in here?” His voice is one of gentle concern, and Jaylah realizes that she’s still curled on the seat like a small child. “Chekov says he saw you running towards the hangar like a bat out of hell, like something was wrong. What happened?” His hand is warm on her shoulder.

Montgomery Scotty’s behavior towards her- there is a phrase for it in her peoples’ language, though it has been so long since she’s had anyone to speak it with that the exactness of the words has long gone and she does not feel confident in speaking it (one more thing Krall has taken from her). The gist of it translates to ‘one who behaves in the manner of a parent to a younger person, when one is not actually their parent’. She knows her father or mother used the phrase when they were in the death-place, because younglings orphaned by Krall were sometimes taken in by other prisoners.

Funny enough, Jaylah does not recall ever thinking that the phrase would one day apply to her. Her young self had never fully grasped the possibility that she might leave the death-place with none of the things she entered it with.

Except herself, and even then she’s still not entirely sure that all of her made it out.

Jaylah has spent years being strong. In the wilderness, with danger everywhere, she learned the value of acting strong until she felt it. There eventually came a time when she did not cry anymore, and the closest she had come since was when she’d spoke to Montgomery Scotty about her reasoning for not wanting to go back to the death-place. And he had not judged her then, but comforted her with a promise of something she had not had for a long time: Companionship.

He is still waiting for an answer.

And Jaylah would not give it to anyone but him, however much it burns to let the words leave her mouth, however much her mind screams at her to keep her guard up. She turns slowly in the seat, putting her legs down and sitting properly.

“There were screams,” She says, the words forced from her mouth as though she’s been punched in the stomach. “On the television. I heard the screams, and they sounded just like-” Jaylah hates that her voice cracks, hates realizing that Krall has done more than just taken from her; he’s given her something too, and that’s the remainder of her lifetime without her parents, or her siblings, a lifetime of their dying screams in her head when she forgets to distract herself enough to keep them away. “They sounded like my mother.”

Montgomery Scotty eyes squeeze shut. “Oh, Jaylah, I’m sorry,” he whispers, then carefully curls his arms around her shoulders.

Jaylah leans into the embrace, setting her cheek on his shoulder. Montgomery Scotty does not say anything, does not try to speak, just hugs her tightly and lets her take her comfort as she will. And Jaylah does take comfort from it, strangely enough; maybe it is receiving comfort from one who has put himself into a sort of parental position to her, maybe it is because he represents a new form of something she thought she had lost and would never retrieve.

She is unsure how long they stay like this, exactly. All she knows is that the embrace does not break until Jaylah lightly pushes away, calm enough now that she feels safe in pulling away.

“Any better now, lass? Good as you’ll get, anyway?”

Jaylah nods stiffly. Her neck aches from the awkward position. “I suppose.”

Montgomery Scotty smiles a little. “I’ll take it.” He stepped back, reaching down to the console and opening the container he’d brought with him. “Well, since we’re here, we may as well eat!”

He handed her a piece of food wrapped in foil. Jaylah opened it to find a sort of “sandwich” (she still felt odd about eating something with ‘sand’ in the name) inside, and looked around the bridge. As much as she did not want to leave her house just yet, she knew it was off-limits to those not part of the restoration project. “We are not supposed to be here. Should we leave?” Montgomery Scotty snorts. “Aye, what are they going to do? Throw us into space? Pff,” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’ll cover for us.”

Jaylah accepts that answer, and they eat quietly for a few minutes. It’s a break from routine, certainly, but the feel of their usual meetings is still present, even if it’s quieter than usual.

As if on cue, Montgomery Scotty says, “Say, lassie, did I ever tell you about the Tribble incident?”

“I do not know what is a Tribble.”

Montgomery Scotty laughs darkly. “Oh, neither did I, lass. Picture a small furball that reproduces faster than you can imagine and eats everything in sight. So I was using this experimental technology to transport one from the middle of the galaxy to my nephew at the Academy in San Francisco. I really should have thought twice about involving Chekov in this, could have gotten the poor lad fired, but anyway-”

Montgomery Scotty goes on with the humorous tale of how small balls of fur almost destroyed Earth, as well as his, his nephew’s, and Chekov’s careers, and Jaylah finds whatever tension that is left in her is gone by the time they leave the Franklin a few hours later.

[---]

The thirty-fifth time, Jaylah comes to a concerning revelation.

It has been some time since the incident with the Franklin. Things have gone well since then, she has had no further issues with her classmates beyond the odd disagreement here or there. Most of them, it seems, are less inclined for a fight than Asha.

When Montgomery Scotty comes on this particular night, his is exuberant. “Lassie,” He says as he sweeps into the room, “We’re nearly done! The new-and-improved Enterprise is nearly ready to fly!”

This makes Jaylah smile. “That is excellent! When will it be ready?”

“Within a fortnight- sorry, two weeks. Then there’ll be a ceremony, and then we’ll pick up where we left off before we came to Yorktown.” Montgomery Scotty rolls his eyes. “McCoy’s already banging on about how Kirk should have gotten our remaining time cut down, thinks two solid years in space is far too bloody long-”

That is when Jaylah realizes.

It hits her unexpectedly, knocks the wind out of her:

When the Enterprise is fully repaired, Montgomery Scotty will be gone, along with the rest of James T’s crew. For two years.

None of the people responsible for helping her get off of Altamid will be on Yorktown anymore. They will be gone, only- and probably unreliably- reachable by long-distance communication methods. And likely, before any of them can return to Yorktown, they’ll return to Earth first.

This should not bother her. Her loneliness will not be nearly what it was when she was on Altamid. There are classmates who like and tolerate her now- and even then, she has plenty of distractions without them. As time has gone on, her classes have become considerably more rigorous, particularly the non-engineering ones.

But still…

“Will I be able to contact you when you are on the ship?”

“Oh, yes, of-” Montgomery Scotty hesitates for a moment, apparently just now realizing the implications of what’s to come. “Uh… yes, of course. Communications can be a bit sketchy every now and then, but we should be able to talk.”

He doesn’t sound as certain of that as Jaylah would like. She stabs at the food on her plate- chicken, seasoned with something that makes it taste entirely different than chicken that she’s had before. Either Montgomery Scotty is a very good cook, or humans have mastered the art in ways Jaylah did not think were possible.

Her concern must be obvious on her face, because Montgomery Scotty smiles sadly. “Aw, don’t look so glum. I’ll not be gone forever.”

No, Jaylah thinks, but you will be in space, where there could be many more Kralls waiting.

That, she realizes, is the heart of it: The possibility of Montgomery Scotty, James T, and the rest of their crew going off and maybe never coming back is present. The exact likelihood is uncertain- perhaps Commander Spock can clarify- but the possibility is always there, and with her heart softened as it has over the weeks since leaving Altamid, Jaylah is not sure how she might handle it if they never return.

But she does not say this to Montgomery Scotty. She does not want him to worry about her anymore than she suspects he already does.

“I will be fine,” Jaylah says, like her older brother did when a fellow prisoner picked a fight with him and left him with knife gashes on his face. She tries to adopt his proud stance, his expression, tries to imitate the way he managed to look perfectly fine despite his injuries. “Do not worry about me.”

But, much like with her brother and their parents, she knows he is worried anyway.

[---]

   
The fortieth time, they aren’t alone.  
  
James T. has rented out the same space that the crew held his birthday party in. After the ceremony christening the new Enterprise, the crew gathers there for a private celebration of their own, with food and alcohol.  
  
“She may not be the original Enterprise,” James T. says during his speech, “But she’s ours, and I’m sure we’ll love her just as much. To the Enterprise!” People toast to the ship, and to the rest of their mission in space.  
  
Jaylah is not coming, and is not part of the official crew, but is invited to join the celebration anyway. When she mentions this, James T. laughs. “We’d never have made it off of Altamid if it wasn’t for you. And you worked on the Enterprise in the hangar often enough. You deserve to be here as much as anyone else.” He pats her shoulder and heads off to speak to Lieutenant Uhura.  
  
That may be true, but there is something of a disconnect for Jaylah. Many of these people she does not know; new crew members have been assigned to the Enterprise to replace the ones killed by Krall, and they seem to be mixing well with the surviving crew members. Most of the people Jaylah knows are from engineering, and they are all preoccupied with their discussions with other people- even Keenser is surrounded by people. So Jaylah lingers near the edge of the room until Montgomery Scotty barrels over to the food table.  
  
“Pardon, pardon, move along, excuse me, excuse me, very hot, very hot-” He quickly sets the two containers he’s holding down on the table, waving his hands frantically once they’re free. “Jesus, that’s hot. I should have worn gloves.”  
  
Jaylah is only a little ashamed of how quickly she moves to his side, grateful for company. “What did you make?”  
  
“Chicken parmesan. Tried some before I packaged it up, it’s good- almost worth the third-degree burns I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten from carrying the scalding-hot containers with my bare hands.”

Jaylah smirks. “You will live.”  
  
“Yes I will, yes I will.” Montgomery Scotty chuckles. “So, how are you enjoying the party?”  
  
“It is interesting.”  
  
“Boring, then,” Montgomery Scotty guesses.  
  
Jaylah shrugs. “Most everyone I know is busy talking already.”  
  
He shrugs. “Well, grab a plate and some food, we’ll eat.”  
   
They sit down on the couch and start in on the chicken parmesan. “Y’know, I’ve got word from my nephew- y’know, the poor fellow I nearly got expelled with my little Tribble transportation mishap?- he may be transferring to Yorktown soon. I’ll point him in your direction when he gets here, if you like.”  
  
Jaylah thinks about that for a moment. There’s no guarantee she’ll like this nephew just because she is close with his uncle. Still, it isn’t as though she can or wants to be picky with her potential friends. Besides, from what little she knows of him, he has an interest in engineering as well. “Alright. I will meet him.”  
  
“Oh God, Scotty, you trying to set her up?” James T. appears behind Montgomery Scotty, grinning. “That’s adorable.” Montgomery Scotty chokes sharply.  
  
“What is ‘setting up’?” Jaylah asks. “Like a trap?”  
  
“No,” Montgomery Scotty coughs. “It’s- He means- It’s not important, I’m not setting you up for anything.”  
  
“Sure you’re not,” James T. winks.  
  
“Stop harassing them, Jim,” Leonard McCoy says dully from a few feet away. “Don’t make anyone kill you before we’ve even had a chance to leave the goddamn station. Give the raging alien tyrants and space diseases a chance at you.”  
  
“Whatever you say, Bones,” James T. says sweetly, before giving Jaylah another wink and walking off.  
  
Jaylah’s chest tightens a little as she watches him go, joining Leonard McCoy and Commander Spock.  
  
She will miss this. She will miss this a great deal.  
  
She will miss watching Keenser climb all over the equipment. She will miss James T.’s odd humor, and Leonard McCoy’s gruffness. And above all else, she will miss Montgomery Scotty’s company, his warm presence that has unfailingly reminded her that she is not alone here.  
  
Jaylah looks around the room and realizes that she could be seeing them all for the last time. Leonard McCoy is not wrong when he says that there are plenty of things out in space that can and will kill. Maybe the whole crew will come back. Maybe some won’t. Maybe none of them will.  
  
Jaylah swallows thickly, having to concentrate to get the food down her throat. Once she has, she asks, “What time do you leave tomorrow?”  
  
Montgomery Scotty frowns. “09:00,” He says apologetically. “You’ll have class then, I’m afraid.”  
  
So yes. This will most likely be her last chance to see them all together.  
  
Her mood declines as the party winds down around the early-evening. It dips significantly when a slightly tipsy James T. comes up to her with a small smile. “Don’t think we’re gonna be seeing each other tomorrow, Jaylah, so I wanted to say goodbye now.”  
  
He wraps her in a hug that is different from Montgomery Scotty’s- slightly tighter, though maybe that’s just the circumstances. Jaylah hopes that James T. will be alright. He is a good man, and if it weren’t for him, she would still be on Altamid right now. Never mind the fact that he got her into Starfleet Academy. She owes him a great deal.  
  
“I’ll give you a call every now and then, check in.” James T. assures her.  
  
“I am glad.” They part, and Jaylah takes a deep breath. “Thank you, James T. Thank you for…” She thinks for a moment. “Everything. I am very grateful to you.”  
  
James T. claps her shoulder and smiles. “Couldn’t think of a person who deserved it more. You’ll do great here, Jaylah. I’m looking forward to attending your graduation one day.”  
  
Jaylah certainly hopes he will.  
  
Everyone else drains out of the room as time goes on. Keenser leaves with Kevin, and he offers Jaylah his own heartfelt goodbye, expressing his desire to see her again. Several of the other engineers give her their own goodbyes and well-wishes, and Jaylah watches them go with some pain. Even Leonard McCoy says goodbye, giving her an awkward pat on the shoulder and wishing her luck with her studies.  
  
“Don’t think you’ll need it, you’re a smart one,” He says.  
  
When the artificial sky is almost completely dark, Montgomery Scotty pats her arm. “What do you say, lass? Ready to head home?”  
  
Jaylah nods, but she feels numb. Tired and numb. She can’t even think of preparing for class tomorrow.  
  
Montgomery Scotty walks her back to her dormitory. For the first time, they walk in almost complete silence. Jaylah is not unaccustomed to being silent, but it is unusual for him to be so quiet, especially when in the presence of a friend.  
  
It’s only when they get to her dormitory that he finally speaks.  
  
“So, Jaylah…” It is not awkwardness, not really. It seems as though he just isn’t sure what to say. “I suppose we’re saying goodbye for now.”  
  
Jaylah nods, embracing the numbness in lieu of the other unpleasant things she could be feeling right now. She nods towards her door. “Are you staying for a while longer?”  
  
Montgomery Scotty shakes his head. “Sorry, lass. I have to head back and get ready for tomorrow.” He gives her a sad smile, and Jaylah feels the numbness slipping away faster than she can hold onto it. “Come here, lass.”  
  
They hug. And it feels far, far too much like it did in the Franklin. Jaylah feels far too fragile, far too much like she’s on the verge of begging Montgomery Scotty not to go, or concocting some way to sneak onto the Enterprise and head out with the crew. If it wouldn’t be a slap in the face to everything James T. had done to get her into the Academy, she might do it.  
  
“I’ll call you,” Montgomery Scotty promises into her shoulder. “As often as I can. Try and socialize a bit while we’re gone, yeah? There’s good people here. You’ll like this place a lot more with friends.”  
__  
My **friends** are leaving, Jaylah protests silently, but doesn’t open her mouth until she’s sure the right words will come out.  
  
“I will be fine.”  
  
Montgomery Scotty pulls back, hands on her shoulders, and smiles proudly.  
  
“Yeah, lass, I know you will.”  
   
[---]  
   
For the first time, Jaylah skips class.  
  
Doing so without a valid reason is frowned upon in the worst sort of way, the rigorous nature of Starfleet Academy making attendance crucial. But she does not miss class often, and this…  
  
This she does not want to miss.  
  
Jaylah does not make herself known to the crew, who get an official send-off from the Admiral. She watches quietly from a distance as the crew files onto the ship. The only person she can recognize from her position is James T. and Commander Spock, and only because they have stepped aside to speak to the Admiral before their departure.  
  
She does not catch Montgomery Scotty, or Keenser, or anyone else. So her last memory of each of them will be restricted to their goodbyes the night before.  
  
After a few hours, all of the crew is finally loaded onto the ship, and the Enterprise slowly begins to move. It picks up speed, and eventually leaves the hangar and takes off into space.  
  
Jaylah silently watches her family leave.  
  
And she hopes that maybe, this time, they will return to her safely.  
   
-End

**Author's Note:**

> The "Tribble incident" that Scotty refers to is taken from Star Trek: Ongoing (Volume 2). What I would not give to have seen it adapted to the screen.


End file.
